


The Owl & The Pussycat

by pauliemeatballs



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23236663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauliemeatballs/pseuds/pauliemeatballs
Summary: A sequel of sorts to my Rein sick-fic. Sig has a nasty fever and asks Rein to tell him a story, since he's so good at it.
Relationships: Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper/Reinhardt Wilhelm
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	The Owl & The Pussycat

**Author's Note:**

> \- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPiCejN-Wek

“Tell me a story.”

“What kind of story?”

“Any kind. It's the least you can do for me, after all, since you infected me.”

“ _Excuse me_?” Reinhardt said with a laugh. “I only reminded you not to kiss me several hundred times.”

“Hmph. These things are just out of my control.”

“What does that mean?”

“I am a romantic, unfortunately. I let my heart get in the way of my head.”

“You realize you’re also admitting it's your fault.”

Siebren remained silent, his trademark indignance making his sickly, grayish pallor all the more comical. Reinhardt had seen to it that he was not to move for the entire day, his comforters tucked up all the way to his neck, with a warm, damp washcloth draped across his forehead. The restraints left him unable to lift his head from the pillow as he spoke, adding more thespian flair to the dramatic way in which he cocked his eyebrow and pursed his lips. Rein half expected the village doctor to come trudging in with a briefcase full of shoddy pills and potions. 

Siebren had the television switched to a nature program, an extravagant one with beautiful cinematography that he often looked forward to. Rein had come to enjoy it too, even though he admittedly thought it a little droll in the past. Nothing too harrowing, however. It was Siebren’s room and Siebren’s TV, and it was being in his presence that mattered more, anyway. He immediately began racking his brain for story inspiration. Something from life, or something borrowed? Something real, or something fantastical? He watched Siebren look straight ahead at the program, his expression endearingly pompous and irritable, until it suddenly crumpled in the wake of a painful onslaught of hacking coughs. His body automatically hunched up and over, the washcloth wetly dropping off his head like a heavy dollop of honey. Rein inched closer, sitting up from his reclining position to rub Siebren’s back until he could catch his breath again. Siebren’s fever was a might scarier than his own, he found, primarily because he could not hide his pain as well as Rein could. He was just as jolly, yes, but nowhere near as passive and optimistic as Rein where discomfort and inconvenience were concerned. It was easy to get dragged into Siebren’s wallowing, but at the same time it genuinely did make Rein wonder if he hurt more because of what he’d been through. He gently hooked a finger onto the back of Siebren’s shirt collar and kissed the nape of his neck to make his concern known, smiling when the heat of his skin tinged his lips. 

“Do that again, hm?”

Rein obliged, letting himself linger. Siebren’s head lifted just slightly, relishing the feeling like a contented cat, before lying back down and letting Rein overwhelm his sight. He felt his face cradled by large, calloused hands, followed by the incomparable sensation of soft lips and the feather-light brush of his facial hair on his cheeks. They were softly squished between the heels of his palms, the feeling begrudgingly titillating on any other occasion, though now it left an aching need within Siebren’s belly to be embraced. And so he was. Rein half lay himself over his husband, burying his face in his neck and adorning the hot skin with deep kisses. Siebren’s body was racked with hypersensitivity, his eyelids heavy and his chest like a bundle of steel wool, and yet it all receded as an afterthought once he felt Rein’s weight on him.

“I’d like to die like this.”

“Don’t say the D word.”

“Oh, you know I don’t really mean it, you old biddy.”

“I know. I just don’t like the word.”

Siebren grinned. “Fine. If I were to pass out from asphyxiation, I’d like it to happen while stuck under your great heaving body.”

Rein’s laugh rumbled through his body. “How poetic. And enticing.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Of course I do.”

Siebren let out a raspy chuckle, combing his fingers through Rein’s silky hair. 

“Mm, let me try something.”

“Hm?”

Rein raised his unwarmed cheek to Siebren’s forehead.

“What is this supposed to do?”

“You’re the scientist, you tell me.”

The feeling of dampness between their skin reminded Siebren of the forgotten washcloth, and found his answer.

“I do this with you sometimes.”

“You do it when your hands are cold and you want to surprise me.” Rein took one of Siebren’s hands and kissed the back. In the moment, Siebren felt very much like a fairy tale prince. The callback to youth made his throat prick with sudden emotion.

“Tell me a story…”

“You still haven’t told me what you want.”

“You’re the storyteller, fool. Weave me a merry tale.”

Rein settled back onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “And weave I shall. Hmm...” He fluttered his fingers in the air as if stroking invisible spider webs. “It's the story of two glorious kings, and how they came to be in each other’s company.”

“Do they share a throne?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then I think I’ll like this story.”

“You will. I think you’ll find it very familiar.”

Siebren turned his gaze towards Rein’s, the palpable fondness between the two weaving around them like a ribbon of sunlight. Rein caressed a clammy cheek with his knuckles.

“In a faraway land, there lived a king who was much loved by his subjects, and ruled happily over a peaceful, bounteous land with his good longtime friend, the master of the council and the king’s proxy. The king, however, was old, and had nary a loved one to truly share himself with. The hand could see this plainly for herself, and always advised him to seek a spouse, of which he always deflected with supposed kingly responsibilities. It wasn’t until a chance hunting trip, however, that the king’s life was to be changed forever.”

Siebren curled up in his comforters, his eyes dancing with excitement.

“Within an inner village in the kingdom, there lived a scholar. The smartest scholar in all the land, but also the loneliest. He had good friends, yes, but he was, for the most part, unpopular in his town, feared by the ignorant for his powerful mind and shunned by the cruel for his perceived failure to live up to a man’s expectations. The scholar, however, never let it get to him. He had his books and his ideas and his ever-expanding mind, and if he ever felt too cooped up, he had the vast forests to explore and enjoy a bit of time to himself. The forests were vibrant with life and satisfied the romantic in him,” Rein said with a wink, “but the thing about romance is that it bears sharing. To indulge in it alone makes one feel empty or incomplete, like an unsatisfying meal. Well, the day that the scholar set out on this particular little adventure was the day he’d finally know what it was like to have that completeness within his reach.”

“And what do I look like in this world?”

“Hmph. I never said the scholar was you.”

“Then I suppose the king isn’t you, either. I haven’t heard you describe him as maddeningly handsome with long flowing hair yet.”

“Very funny. But...if I were to oblige your little...conceited inquiry, the scholar _was_ beautiful.” Rein traced the bridge of Siebren’s nose as he said so. “A very angular face, lined with exquisitely flattering wrinkles like the rings of a tree. His nose made him look very owl-like, which was considered fitting by those who knew him. His arms and hands were strong and capable, but allowed him to go about his work with delicate focus. He had a smile that could bring tears to one’s eyes, and…” He raised his hand to gently pet Siebren’s hair. “His hair, gray and silver like clouds, was tied back into an elegant ponytail with a bow-tied ribbon, and would cascade around his shoulders when set free.” 

Siebren leaned his face into the pillow, a warm blush washing over the dreamy expression on his face.

“What color was the ribbon?”

“What difference does it make what color the damn ribbon was? _Du bist so albern… (You’re so silly...)_ ”

“Hey!” Siebren gave Rein’s face a light smack, to which Rein responded with a swift pinch of Siebren’s nose. “ _Ow!_ You brute--” 

Rein promptly rolled back over to playfully sink his teeth into Siebren’s neck, eliciting a ridiculously uncharacteristic yelp from the older man that softened Rein’s jaw with jolly laughter.

“And I’m the old biddy.”

“Shut up. You know everything hurts.” A stubborn smirk ruined Siebren’s forced expression of disdain. He gave into it and wrapped his arms around Rein, keeping him in place. He found himself too tired to fight back, anyway. His entire body felt like a throbbing, exposed nerve, the brief romp with Rein leaving him almost completely drained of energy, but still he laughed. It quickly bled into another series of coughs, which roused Rein from his giddy haze immediately. He sidestepped off the bed to get Siebren a glass of water, taking an extra few seconds to dig through a drawer for a spoon and a nearby cabinet for a bottle of cough syrup, leaving a careless mess of other medicine bottles in the wake of his frantic fingers, as the sound of Siebren’s lungs tearing themselves apart left no time to dawdle. Each cough felt like a javelin being thrown through his belly. He felt somehow it was his fault for laying so heavily on him.

“ _Liebling_ , here. Drink.” He sat on the edge of the bed, cupping Siebren’s chin and holding it up from his chest, awkwardly administering the water as if Siebren hadn’t the use of his hands. 

“Darling, please, you’re making a mess,” Siebren rasped, placing his hand over Rein’s and taking control. Rein watched him in the slowed little pocket of time; his eyes had darkened underneath just so, as if he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a few days. His lips were slightly more wrinkled from dehydration, and stood out as the water brought them back to a healthy pink. Rein’s heart twinged as he took notice. Once Siebren finished, a drop dribbling from the corner of his mouth, he leaned in to catch it with his own, moving his hand from Siebren’s to his face to bring it closer, and he felt the older man melt into him. Siebren’s frailty left him dizzy in his wistfulness, and he immediately wanted to curl back up onto his side in Rein’s embrace as he continued to illustrate his tale of star-crossed lovers, fitting perfectly into his arms and under his chin like a puzzle piece. 

Rein left a smaller kiss on Siebren’s lips as he broke away to open the bottle of cough syrup he’d momentarily discarded on the comforter. Siebren swallowed an expression of disdain, his taste buds protesting against another struggle to swallow the horrible artificial bitterness of the orange flavor.

“Doesn’t that come with a little cup? Watch the blanket.”

“Yes, but I don’t know where it is.” Rein did well to carefully pour a large dose into the spoon, and Siebren kept his eyes on the surface tension until it was at his lips. His mouth twisted visibly enough that a beautifully amused little grin broke out on Reinhardt’s face, and he opened his mouth, trying to deter his mind from the flavor so it didn’t completely register. It didn’t work as well as he’d hoped.

“I think you lost it on purpose,” he remarked as he swallowed, knowing Rein’s love for taking care of him especially shined during times where he could offer to feed him.

“Not necessary. I can do what I like.” Siebren watched him with a lazy smile as he got up to return everything to its place, silently agreeing with him.

“So, before you so rudely interrupted me…” he sighed as he resumed his place aside Siebren, rolling fully onto his side so they could face each other, and flicking his nose for good measure. “The scholar was a great beauty, but in communities like these, only the beauty of young maidens mattered. Only their ripening for marriage. Older women were seen as wonders who’d come and gone all too quickly. Therefore, the beauty of men, especially older men, lay unnoticed. And so the scholar was not aware of how bewitching he truly was.” Rein winked again. Siebren rolled his eyes, wanting to tell him to shut up or come off it while knowing his expression would just betray him.

“A lazy weekend afternoon found him curled up under a tree deep in the forest, a beautiful, small clearing where light shone through the leaves like gold. He brought with him a couple of books and his quill to take notes. Unbeknownst to him, however, he had settled into the territory of a ferociously protective bear.”

“Ooh.”

“Meanwhile, the king made his way through the forest on his horse, finding his lust for hunting had dwindled unexpectedly. Many a time he found himself positioned perfectly away from a healthy looking deer or a great big bird, but he could not muster the effort to take it down.”

“Perhaps the king should just leave these fragile little ecosystems alone.”

“We’re not watching the nature channel, _schneke_. This is my time now.”

Siebren flicked Rein’s nose right back. “The king can sense that love is in the air.”

“Quite right, but he doesn’t recognize it as love right away. We never wake up to destiny until we’re in the throes of it. The king did not know what fate had in store for him until he and his horse trotted into that clearing. The sunlight shone on the scholar like a halo, but also like a signal. The king was familiar with the area, and sure enough, he heard a nearby thicket disturbed by the slow prowling of the bear. He and his horse stayed deadly still, and he kept his eyes on the old man beneath the tree, analyzing how to approach him with this terrifying information.”

“The scholar continued to read from a book open at his side on the ground, while swiftly re-dipping his quill and taking notes in a small brown leather journal. His ponytail lay over one shoulder, and his glasses seemed determined to keep slipping down his nose. He was completely engrossed in his studies, blissfully unaware of the bear’s gaze on him. The king decided to take action.”

“‘Hey, you!’ he whispered urgently. The sound of another voice within the forest rattled the scholar well enough to lock eyes with the king. Many feelings surged through him at once, too fast to process individually, but the king knew at that moment that he must protect this man, safety be damned.”

Siebren inched a hand out from under the comforter to slip it into one of Rein’s. He squeezed it back gently.

“At the moment, the king wore nothing that revealed who exactly he was, and so to the scholar he was just another adventurer. A capable looking one too, judging from his stature and how well behaved his horse was. The panic in the stranger’s eyes reflected back into him, and he suddenly began to wonder what kind of danger he was in. The king whispered again: ‘Don’t make any sudden movements. Not yet. This is the home of a bear.’ The scholar’s stomach immediately dropped. How was he to fend off a bear? Why didn’t he think of this before? The clearing did look too perfect to be real…”

“Then I flipped that nasty bear onto it's head and we rode off together into the sunset.”

“That isn't nearly as exciting of a story as mine.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be quiet. Go on.”

“Thank you. So, the scholar very slowly closed his journal, moving a hand just as carefully to close the book beside him. The king almost laughed. He’d just told him not to move, but his precious books were in danger, and he could not risk leaving them behind. Luckily, the bear did not view him as an immediate threat. Yet. The scholar hugged his books close to his chest, looking at the king expectantly. Truly, the king was at a loss for what to command next. He was just as scared. Fighting off a bear was no simple feat. Neither was deterring one from the prey in it's line of sight. He figured either way that the bear would become impatient and make a beeline for the other man, and as soon as he made the decision to step forward with his horse, the scholar made the hasty decision to push himself up against the tree, preparing to run. The bear, however, had been watching him too carefully, and fulfilled the king’s expectations. As quick as lightning, the king lunged forward to distract the bear with his horse before focusing all of his adrenaline into pushing the bear off course. It briefly worked, and he saw the scholar scrambling over behind him. A great swell of pride filled his chest, for it wasn’t until much later that the king would realize this was the satisfaction of protecting his love.”

“He outstretched a hand behind him, keeping the scholar at bay and preparing for the bear to recollect itself. The king was very strong, after all. But there were ways in which the bear was stronger. It recovered in no time flat, and the king steeled himself into a wrestling position, preparing to push it away again and hopefully land a hard enough hit that the bear was scared off. As it ran forward again, the king put his plan into motion, shoving it hard and following up with a deep, almost desperate bellow that rattled a few birds from their trees. The bear found itself outmatched, and retreated into the woods.”

“Have you ever wrestled a bear?” Siebren asked with a smile.

“Only once, and not of my own volition. I don’t recommend it. Not unless you want to boast some fearsome scars.”

“Did it leave any on you?”

Rein rolled onto his stomach and pushed his tank top down from his right shoulder. “When you actually push a bear away, you’ll get grazed by it's claws one way or another.” He leaned over and pointed to his shoulder blade, identifying two asymmetrical claw marks that had since faded, informing Siebren that it must have happened when he was a young man. The width and length made Siebren sharply inhale nonetheless. He gingerly extended his hand, grazing his fingertips over the pale flesh before leaning in to leave a kiss. 

“ _Wat zie je er mooi uit. (How pretty you look.)_ ”

Reinhardt noted the way he looked with his shoulder up to his jaw, appearing to scandalously show Siebren some skin. He batted his eyelashes, making the older man chuckle through a brilliant grin.

“Let’s continue, though.”

“Please.”

“So, after they were able to ensure their safety,” Rein narrated, rolling back over onto his side. “...The king turned to the scholar, still cowering behind him, and extended his hand. Almost immediately, his fear was washed away, and he stood up straight to take the hand of his savior. They told each other their names, and all but stumbled over each other while asking if the other was okay. They found that despite only knowing each other for a few minutes, an undeniable bond had been formed. They liked looking at each other. The sound of the other’s voice made them feel warm. Perhaps it was because they were so starkly different. Almost nothing about them resonated. One was heavy, one was thin. One was a man of physical adventure, the other of mental.”

“I’m not thin.”

“You’ve got that right.” Rein punctuated himself by clapping his palm on Siebren’s blanketed behind, giving it a squeeze, and startling him. 

“ _Deze oude wellusteling--je wilt dat ik opsta en mijn voet in jouw-- (This old lecher--you want me to get up and shove my foot up your--)_ ”

“ _Ah, ich würde gerne sehen, wie Sie es versuchen, (Ah, I would love to see you try,)_ ” Rein teased, squeezing Siebren’s cheeks into a pucker and wobbling his face from side to side. “ _Sie können nicht einmal das Wort sagen. (You can’t even say the word.)_ ”

“ _Schroef je neer., (Screw you,)_ ” Siebren mumbled with a smirk, stumbling over the first syllable and failing to put enough energy into it to sound believable. Rein’s grin glittered like stars.

“ _Sie können mich auch mal. (Screw you, too.)_ ” He brought Siebren’s pucker to his own.

“I didn't enjoy that. Don’t make me curse at you again,” Siebren crooned against his lips.

“‘Screw’ is not a curse. And no one made you. Now, stop interrupting me.”

Siebren smiled mischievously. 

“So, as I was saying: the two men couldn’t be anymore different. But that, immediately, ignited the love between them. Without being able to articulate, they knew they wanted to bask in each other’s differences. They wanted to know more. So, they did. The king and the scholar walked through the forest for some time, getting to know one another, learning so much through the little things in such little time. Of course, any time spent doing something wonderful feels short, no?”

“The king noticed that when asked about his line of work, the scholar would stutter just a bit, because he was not used to people being interested in what he had to say.” Siebren’s eyes glittered, but Rein still felt a pang of sadness at his use of language, even though his explanation came from Siebren verbatim. He remembered that time very clearly, because it was one of their first heart-to-hearts, and when Rein heard the words from his friend he felt the world falling out from under him, the kind of peril that threatened all, and narrowed down every priority. In that moment, all he saw was Siebren, and all he wanted was to reach out and catch him, and hold him and keep him safe from everyone who made him feel that way. Safe enough to try again, and be embraced.

“The scholar noticed that when the king had something important to say, something heartfelt, he would take a breath, and approach the point after telling a little tale. Very much like an old man. This, again, was something about them that contrasted greatly, but made the other even more appealing and endearing. The king had stories, but no one to tell them to. The lonely heart of a romantic; a library collecting dust. The scholar, almost breathless in his speech, tired from the many attempts at sharing his own, stumbled as he spoke, not being used to an engaged audience. They realized on their walk, that the answer was clear. They were meant to be different. They complimented each other. And...”

Siebren’s face softened beautifully.

“They were meant to be.”

The two men took a moment to look at each other in reverence, in gratitude. 

“The story doesn’t stop there, does it?” Siebren asked as he interlocked their fingers.

“Oh, no. The best is yet to come. You see...the king found himself quite enamored of the scholar, sometimes losing himself while the man spoke because of how entranced he became by the smallest things: the way the scholar’s ponytail ended in a lovely little curl--”

“I love that you’re being so generous with my hair.”

“SSH!! --He loved when the scholar would turn to the side and the king got a wonderful view of his nose; the way his sideburns inched up his jawline; the way the scholar would talk with his hands; the way his glasses contrasted his sharp features in the most complementary of ways, like cherries on cake.”

“Perhaps the king...was a little _sweet_ on the scholar?”

“Ha ha ha. But in all seriousness, yes. The scholar made the king feel the sweetest warmth within, and it made him sad when they approached the outskirts of his town. It took them a bit to finally say farewell, but the feeling of their first handshake would never be forgotten. The king stayed put as he watched the scholar walk all the way out of sight.”

“Hmm.” Siebren smirked, but said nothing.

“What?”

“What is that saying…’I hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave’?”

Rein smirked back. “Yes. And?”

“Mm, nothing.”

“You would like to know if the king had other reasons for keeping an eye on you.”

Siebren shrugged, still looking cat-like. He turned so Rein could hug him from behind, taking extra time to snuggle as close as possible.

“You’re too much.”

“I’m warm. Well...warmer.”

Rein wrapped an arm around Siebren, smiling into the back of his head.

“The king noticed how everything felt a little different when he went to bed that night, as if he were truly appreciating it for the first time. How the world changes once you’ve found something to look forward to. Before he fell asleep, he made a plan. An exciting plan that would ensure he’d see the scholar again soon. He decided to throw a ball.”

“Ooh.”

“He met with his council in the morning, and soon the decree was sent out across the land, inviting anyone and everyone to attend. When the news trickled down into the scholar’s hometown, everyone else seemed wholly preoccupied with their outfits and modes of transportation and friends and family who were also attending, but the scholar himself did not take notice right away. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing he’d be interested in, and he didn’t have a date, either. But that didn’t necessarily mean he was disinterested, either. The longer he looked at the scroll containing the news, the more his heart fluttered in his chest. It was another chance to meet the king, or at least be near him. Free food and liquor was also a big plus, too. And so the scholar, with this newfound motivation, went to the tailor to get himself done up, finding it hard to keep a giddy smile from his face.”

Siebren gently took Rein’s hand and began kissing the knuckles. “What kind of ballgown did my fairy godmother grace me with?” he asked groggily.

Rein chuckled. “Would you believe I already had it in my mind before telling this story?”

“Yes.”

“You would have a lovely, deep blue frock coat with golden accents,” Rein purred. “Very regal and striking, with a cravat and cream-colored pants...and the train in the back would be elegant and flowing and it would move as you moved, like silk… Ah, it would hug you so nicely and you’d find a nice matching bow for your hair...maybe glasses, too...or not. That’s up to you. Personally, if I were to include glasses I think they’d make them gold, as well, just to flow with the other accents. I like the ones with the, um...the loop-around chain or string. You wear them sometimes. Mind you, I’d like it if you wore them all the time.” Rein hugged him close and kissed the back of his neck.

“What do you think, _lieben_?”

Siebren did not respond.

“Darling?”

A soft snore echoed from Siebren’s nose.

  
  


* * *

_“You did a lot better today.”_

_Siebren stayed silent, his gaze fixed to his feet. They had given him a black t-shirt and loose sweatpants to wear in the exercise quarters. As to why, he couldn’t say. He didn’t get much mileage out of them. He couldn’t. But he presumed it was just a habitual thing. Maybe also to make him feel more comfortable? Whatever it was, it didn’t work. Siebren wasn’t about to relay it to Rein, but he hated physical therapy. Abhorred it. He was scheduled to a session three times a week with him and Dr. Augustin, and for the sake of their kindness, Siebren did not complain. He persevered through wobbling limbs and achy joints and nerve responses that seemed to lag behind their commands. When he fell painfully onto his knees, arrogantly waving away Rein’s help, he crawled forward like a toddler and gained the momentum to stand again, only to lose balance immediately after and fall into Rein’s arms after all. When he stood, he took the larger man’s hands, walking forward as he walked backward. The lump in his throat felt stony and tangible, but he swallowed it with all his might and went along. The only thing worse than feeling this weak and feeble was showing it, and the facade of strength he put up only did so much. He was not a strong looking man. Truth be told, he never was. Only when Moira invaded his body with her artificially created super soldier serum did he gain the kind of physical power and stature that could effectively intimidate their enemies. These enemies, most of the time, being people who couldn’t defend themselves. After his escape, his power surge burned it all out of him. Now he looked as if a strong wind could blow him away. His limbs were stick thin, making his hands and fingers look long and gnarled. His cheeks were sunken in, and the skin on his face sagged. He was a ghost, and the more often he could avoid reflective surfaces, the better._

_“Are you hungry or thirsty, by any chance?”_

_Siebren shook his head, as benignly as he could._

_“I’d like to g-go back to my room.”_

_“Sure.”_

_Rein took his hand as they proceeded. If it were anyone else, he might have felt uncomfortable inside, with the implication that he needed to be guided. But with Rein, there was a connection, a feeling that it was right for his hand to belong in his larger one. He squeezed it gently, partially to stabilize himself, and Rein squeezed it back. That made him happy._

_When they reached their destination, Rein opened the door and let Siebren in first. He was very gentlemanly, of that much Siebren was certain. It even expressed itself in his voice. Rein was loud and boisterous but there was also a regality to his diction that seemed to soften Siebren within as he talked. He knew he was safe with him, despite his brain screaming at him from inside that this was all a trick of some kind._

_“Do you think you did a good job today?” Rein asked as he shut the door._

_“I d-don’t have any sss-trong feelings either way,” Siebren replied, with great effort._

_“I understand. But do you think you made progress?”_

_“...I’d like to think so.”_

_“The smallest effort put forth is progress, no matter how you feel about it. We just have to keep chipping away little by little.”_

_“Chipping at wh-what?”_

_“Your struggles.”_

My struggles _, Siebren thought._ Everything is a struggle. If you manage to help me become a normal man again, I’ll consider you an agent of God.

_“I’m cold.” Siebren rose from the edge of his bed to run his hands under the bathroom faucet, sighing quietly when he felt his skin thaw. Always cold. Always hungry, even though he told Rein he wasn’t._

_“...Do you want some tea?” he heard him rumble from outside. He acquiesced. Tea would be nice._

_“--Yes, please.” He kept his eyes on his hands, refusing every bit of temptation to look at himself in the mirror._

_“I think I’ll make you something sweet. I like something sweet when I’m down.”_

_“...I’d like that.” He meant it. Siebren turned off the faucet and looked at his hands, now reddened in stark contrast to the rest of his arms. He put his hands over his face, the heat and dampness feeling refreshing. As he raised his head and took them down, he caught a glimpse of himself. Just a brief glimpse. It sent revulsion piercing up through his stomach, his chest, his esophagus,. But he swallowed hard again, turning sharply and flicking the light off._

_“Lemon is good with a lot of sugar, also Earl Grey...oh, we have a raspberry in here, I didn’t even know.”_

_“Raspberry?”_

_“Mm-hm.” Rein turned from one of the cabinets in the kitchen area. “Sounds good?”_

_“Sure.” Siebren stood near the edge of the bed, looking at Rein with unfocused eyes. His smile suddenly pulled everything into perspective. Rein was only a year younger than him, but if it weren’t for his snowy white hair, you’d assume he’d only be in his mid-fifties. Everything about him was youthful, and powerful. He seemed to radiate warmth wherever he went. Even when Siebren was comatose, he felt it in what he heard of his voice. A man that cares. A man that helps. A man that walks you back to your room and puts a kettle on for you._

What do you see when you look at me?

(nothing)

_That seemed only right. Siebren was pitiful. A shell of whomever he used to be. He couldn’t even remember. Everything about his existence at this point seemed to defy logic, but not in the way that made people question their reality in a mystical, adventurous way. It was the kind that people often feel when seeing roadkill, still miraculously breathing despite its body having been ripped beyond recognition, it's head pathetically plastered to the ground, wheezing with its tongue lolling out for any last breath of air they can get, it's eyes bulging almost in disbelief that it's life is now over, but still it breathes. Still it whines grotesquely, with a low, defeated tone like a broken machine winding down to oblivion. Siebren almost didn’t hear himself beginning to sputter. He almost didn’t feel his own eyes bulging with the same disbelief, or his heart arresting itself in his chest as if a glacier had instantly formed around it, it's grooves and spikes reaching out between his ribs with inconsiderate force, not caring if they were weak and hollow._

_(oh god it's happening)_

_Siebren felt as if he were underwater, as if he’d fallen through a frozen lake, and Rein was above on the surface, hitting the ice and trying to find out exactly where he was. He collapsed, but before his knees could reach the ground, Rein was there to catch him, worry and empathy tearfully twisting his face. He repeated Siebren’s name, but it sounded foreign to him. The body he called his own continued to hyperventilate, loudly, with ragged panic. It’s eyes darted around to nothing in particular. Rein sat down with it in his arms, telling it that it was okay, asking it to look at him. It's eyes burned with tears, feeling more like acid. The water racked it violently, the blood in it's veins prickling as their heat succumbed to the cold, any fight left inside dwindling away, and it wasn’t until he felt the warmth of Rein’s hug that he realized the figure above the ice wasn’t his friend, but himself, staring through a deadly, translucent mirror. He looked amorphous._

_(like a ghost)_

_The ice finally gave way, breaking thunderously, and with it, a wail of pure agony from Siebren’s throat. Every bad thought that manifested in his head after waking seemed to mercilessly tumble down at him, the glacier exploding inside and raining down chunks of ice. They broke his body, the sharp edges tearing at his skin, but the pain proved that he was still alive. It only made him cry more. He let it go, everything inside of him, all of the pain, the hatred, the regret, the all too familiar sensation of his body being encroached and used as an object of conquest. He waited for the room to melt away and reveal that he never left Talon, to continue melting away the black and red and reveal that he did, in fact, die, and that this was some circle of hell. He waited for Rein’s skin to fall from his bones, revealing demonic, indistinguishable pink flesh that mocked him with mushroom-like growths of smiling teeth all over, mocking his vulnerability._

_None of it happened._

_Reinhardt continued to hold him. He continued to cry, his tears soaking into Rein’s shirt, his shoulders shaking and his chest heaving with each sob. It felt like an eternity, but he preferred it._

_\--_

_“I d-don’t th-think I want t-to leave my room fff-or a while,” he finally croaked after a long time. Everything seemed to move in slow motion._

_“...Sss-tay--stay with me.”_

_“Of course.”_

* * *

_The morning after brought Siebren no relief. Reinhardt has done as he promised: he stayed with him for the rest of the day and night; talking him down, wiping his tears, holding him. To be cared for in such a way was one thing. To wake up and realize the immense responsibility you’ve created was another. Siebren’s eyes were dry, and his head hurt. The room darkened to an inky blue from the artificial space scenery in the window, and it seemed to untie some knot within him. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the sunlight at all._

_The tablet on his left nightstand sounded off like a regular digital alarm, tuning into an easy listening radio station where the DJ eased his audience back in from the commercials to an uninterrupted half-hour of the Carpenters. Siebren turned his head in it's direction, and reached to swipe it off. He noticed the tablet was not propped up against the lamp like he usually had it, so he could see the time. It lay flat, with a corner poking off the edge as if someone had recently tampered with it. That didn’t surprise him. In the short time that he had it, he’d only used it to read Wikipedia articles or to fiddle with the settings, so there was no need for a password. Another knot untied. He knew it was Reinhardt, though he could not bring himself to actually smile at the little act of kindness._

_His morning routine went by in a blur. First his teeth, then a hot shower, then deodorant, and moisturizer for his face, not bothering to look at himself in the mirror at any point. He was back in bed before he knew it. Staring up at the ceiling. Alone. Of course, he didn’t expect Rein to stay in the morning when he could leave and get breakfast. In truth, he didn’t expect him to stay at all. But something about the radio alarm reassured Siebren. Even if he didn’t return, he at least left him a little memento. Siebren sighed, turning onto his side and laying a hand on the empty space beside him. The room felt enveloping and comforting in the glittering darkness, but it still managed to feel a little emptier without the music. He took the tablet from the night table, swiping it open to the radio app and hitting play, letting it rest on his chest._

Why do birds suddenly appear

Every time you are near

Just like me

They long to be

Close to you

_“W-waarom vallen er sterren aan de hemel_

_Elke keer als je langsloopt?_

_Net als ik,_

_Ze v-verlangen ernaar om_

_Dicht bij jou...”_

_Siebren’s voice creaked like a door hinge. It was quiet, and modest, but the melody was present, hanging in the air like the echo of old chimes._

_“Op de dag dat je g-geboren werd, kwamen de engelen samen..._

_En besloot om een dr-droom te creëren die uitkomt,_

_Dus, ze strooiden maanstof in je haar van goud..._

_En sterrenlicht in je ogen van blauw...”_

_A ghost of a smile lifted the corners of Siebren’s mouth. The song felt familiar, and it made him feel safe. Perhaps it was one of his favorites in another life._

_“Dat is waarom alle meisjes in de stad_

_Volg jullie allemaal._

_Net als ik,_

_Ze verlangen ernaar om_

_Dicht bi--.”_

_Siebren blinked when he heard three knocks on the door, soft and restrained as if they were trying to mask the power the hands were capable of._

_“Siebren? Can I come in?”_

(yes please)

  
  


_“O-of course. Just a second…” Siebren fumbled with the tablet and stumbled out of bed feeling slightly rattled, as if someone caught him doing something he shouldn’t be._

_“Hello.”_

_“Good morning,” Siebren rasped from behind the crack of the door._

_“I brought you some fruit. I wasn’t sure if you were ready for anything hearty yet, so…”_

_Siebren peered down at the plastic bag in Rein’s grip, holding two bananas and a honeycrisp apple. He tried to smile, but he felt it came across more like a wince._

_“Will you let me in?”_

_Siebren opened the door fully, amused when he saw Rein duck below the doorframe._

_“I’ll keep them here until you’re ready to eat,” Rein said, placing the bag on the nearby counter. “I also brought this.” He flourished his other hand from behind his back, holding a small mauve book--at least it looked small in Rein’s massive hands-- with what looked like a classical painting of two figures on the cover._

_“I just happened into the library and it caught my eye.” Siebren made a mental note of that. It was nice to know there was a regular old library amidst all of the technology. A closer look at the cover before Rein took it back revealed that it was a copy of Romeo and Juliet._

_“I...figured I could read to you.”_

_Siebren remained silent._

_“You like Shakespeare?”_

_“I’m...not sure. It fff-eels familiar to me. And if it is, then I mmm-ust have in the past.”_

_Rein sat down beside Siebren on the edge of the bed._

_“I, uh, I told Dr. Augustin that you won’t be attending physical therapy for a while.” Rein punctuated himself with a comforting rub on Siebren’s back. “Give you some time to feel better.”_

_The unintentional implication of disease would have made Siebren chuckle wryly, but he was too depressed to outwardly express anything. His inability to shake the hospital feel of the whole situation only soured his mood further._ No hospitals, no doctors, _he chanted in his mind._ No hospitals, no doctors, no medicine. _His brain began it's usual uproar of paranoia as if it were on a schedule, muddling his feelings towards Rein sitting so close to him, touching him with such delicate compassion, speaking low and soft._

(like a nurse)

_“It embarrasses...mmm-e.”_

_“Physical therapy?”_

_“Yes. It's humiliating,” he confessed, staring straight ahead. “B-...but I know I must do it.”_

_“I understand.”_

_“Do you?” Siebren asked sternly. It did not deter Reinhardt._

_“I do.”_

_Siebren held his tongue. Of course he understood. He was a soldier._

(a soldier that held you and watched you cry and drool all over yourself like an infant)

_“I know how it feels. I don’t think you’re weak.”_

_“...You sh--should leave.”_

_“I’m not going to.”_

_Siebren’s eyes snapped in Rein’s direction. They met with Rein’s immutable compassion._

_“You don’t want me to see you like this.”_

_“You’ve...already seen me_ like this _,” Siebren retorted, turning his head back. His voice began to wobble._

_“If we--”_

_“...You think I c-can’t read to myself? I can. I--I, I don’t need you to read to me. I--I can still read, my brain sss-till works, I…” Siebren swallowed, clarifying his voice. “I’m fine. I don’t need you--to pity me. I don’t need--you_ . _”_

(STOP STOP STOP STOP IT)

_Rein paused for a moment, and then rose from the bed. In the two seconds it took for him to do so, Siebren felt his lungs shrivel. Panic seized him like a thunderbolt, as if he were being dragged into the underworld by his ankles, watching his last bit of light shrink into the void until it was a pinprick. His hand shot out in a vice grip on Rein’s arm._

_“Don’t--” he choked. His eyes briefly darted up to Rein’s face. It remained unchanged._

_“I--”_

_His breath caught in his throat._

_“Don’t go. Don’t--leave, I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, I--”_

_“Siebren.”_

_He looked up again._

_“I’m not leaving you. I’m making tea.”_

_Siebren exhaled shortly. Rein’s hair, his smile, his gentleness, his patience, all seemed to glow in the dimness. He averted his eyes, as if he wasn’t worthy to look at him._

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“You have nothing to be sorry for.”_

_He felt Rein’s hand cover his own, and his sinuses tightened._

_“We’ll read together. We could work on your stutter.”_

_“Rrr-ead t-to me,” he whispered with a brisk nod, blinking the tears away. “Read to me. Please.”_

* * *

Siebren shivered in his sleep, despite being tucked in so tightly, and being held in Rein’s embrace. Rein had gotten up exactly twice; once to turn the TV onto Siebren’s beloved nature program, twice to put the kettle on the lowest flame. By the time Siebren woke, he could raise the flame to an instant whistle.

Rein breathed him in. Even in the throes of sickness, he smelled good. His sweat, formed from fever instead of exertion, seemed to accentuate it. He placed a kiss on the back of his neck and licked his lips, savoring the saltiness. 

“I love you…” he whispered almost inaudibly. “I love you...”

“ _Warum tauchen plötzlich Vögel auf_

_Jedes Mal, wenn Sie in der Nähe sind?_

_Genau wie ich,_

_Sie sehnen sich danach_

_Ganz in Ihrer Nähe.”_

Siebren twitched, his breath shuddering. 

“ _Warum fallen Sterne vom Himmel_

_Jedes Mal, wenn Sie vorbeigehen?_

_Genau wie ich,_

_Sie sehnen sich danach_

_Ganz in Ihrer Nähe._

_Am Tag Ihrer Geburt trafen sich die Engel_

_Und beschlossen, einen Traum zu verwirklichen…”_

_“Dus, ze strooiden maanstof in je haar van goud..._

_En sterrenlicht in je ogen van blauw._

You don’t let me sleep, you big fool.”

Rein gasped, and then laughed. “I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t whisper. You rumble,” Siebren replied with a smile in his voice. “ _Ik voel het in mijn borst, ik voel het in mijn hoofd. (I feel you in my chest, I feel you in my head.)_ You haunt me.”

“Mm, so poetic.”

“You do, you...echo in my bones, you thrum in my muscles.”

“You should have been a poetry professor.”

“I don’t think there are doctorates for that. And I never liked English.”

“You never told me that.”

“I’m sure I have. I like reading, I just don’t like reading for academic purposes. Takes all the fun out of it.”

“No, you’d rather read articles and dissertations about...atoms. And math.”

Siebren chuckled. “Math is beautiful. Math is poetic.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Even Shakespeare sounds dull from someone who reads it with no heart.”

“True, I talk of dreams which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy--”

“Which is as thin as the substance of air,” Rein continued along with him. “...and more inconstant than the wind…” Siebren turned to face Rein, as the larger man kissed his forehead.

“Who wooes even now the frozen bosom of the north, and, being angered, puffs away from thence, turning his face to the dew-dropping south.” Their synchronicity hummed pleasantly through their skin, prompting Siebren to look up at Rein. He still looked tired, and mildly out of it.

“ _Ik ben nu erg verliefd op je. (I’m very in love with you right now.)_ ”

Siebren was close enough that most of his face was obscured by his nose, but he still spoke into his hand, as if he didn’t want to re-infect Rein. An odd courtesy that was entirely befitting of him. Rein took his hand away and leaned in to kiss him, the sudden passion taking Siebren by surprise. He wanted to protest, as Rein did when he was sick, but the smile in him was too warm, and felt more healing than any medicine.

“Take me to the ball, hm?” Siebren murmured against his lips. Rein grinned.

“Did you hear me describing your outfit?”

“I did. I just didn’t say anything because I was too deep in la-la land.”

“Sit up.” 

Siebren did so, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles and sighing, while Rein rose to retrieve painkillers from the medicine cabinet. He looked back over his shoulder to see Siebren stretching and yawning in his signature catlike fashion, and felt his heart swell.

“Here. _Für die Wehwehchen, (For the aches,)_ ” he said, kneeling before Siebren with the pills and a glass of water. Siebren’s blinks were still slow and sleepy, but he kept his eyes on Rein as he administered himself the pills and swallowed. Even if he didn’t intend it, his eyes were always cut sharp, as if he were constantly analyzing or judging something. But Rein knew it was of no consequence, especially since he was the one who always noticed, which meant that his gazes were meant for him and only him. He knew that the smirk in his eyes was merely an endearing Siebrenism that relayed his appreciation and satisfaction, and love. Rein saw it all the time, could feel it on him all the time; while he cooked meals for Siebren, when his eyes were closed while Siebren washed his hair for him in the shower, while they made love, when Siebren watched him sleep in the morning while waiting for him to wake up. It was his own little light that Rein felt infinitely grateful to bathe in, a special spot of sun just for him. He wondered what his Reinhardtism was in Siebren’s eyes. How he made Siebren feel more beautiful and more powerful with each passing day.

“I like you looking at me,” he purred.

“What a coincidence. I enjoy looking at you.” Siebren chugged the last of the water. “There’s so much to...appreciate.” He stroked Reinhardt’s face before slinking his hand down his neck and shoulder. Rein watched Siebren’s face soften once his eyes reached his clavicle.

“ _Mijn lieveling. (My darling.)_ ”

“ _Mein Licht. (My light.)_ ” 

Rein took the glass and set it on the nightstand before crawling forward onto Siebren, making him giggle with quick unbroken kisses on his cheek. His smile faltered when he heard a little wheeze in Siebren’s laughter, but he wasn’t given enough time to concern himself with it, as Siebren employed a minor use of his powers to push Rein over onto his back, the sensation like a larger arm taking him by the bicep and smoothly pinning him down. He did not dislike it. 

“Take me to the ball,” Siebren repeated, his lips brushing against Reinhardt’s earlobe. The fact that such an area was considered an erogenous zone always seemed a little funny to him, but the bass in Siebren’s voice mixed with the texture of his lips and the softness of his breath made him reconsider. Maybe it was erogenous precisely because it was unexpected. Regardless of any deeper analysis, it made him shiver.

“No. You fell asleep on me and now I forgot what I was going to say.”

Siebren gave a humorously impatient grunt. Rein mocked him, and Siebren pinched his nose between his index and middle knuckles.

“If anything, you were rather successful. You should do audiobooks.”

“Successful in what? You didn’t ask for a _bedtime_ story.”

“Irrelevant. Please continue? Please?”

The way Siebren’s body was pressed against him mixed with how exquisitely his head fit into the crook of his neck and the way the playful neediness in his voice thrummed through his chest couldn’t bring him to even consider the word “no”. Still, he gave an exaggerated, exasperated sigh.

“Well, since you said please…”

“Yay.”

“The scholar found he fit the dress code accordingly once he arrived, and that was a bit of a relief to him. He never liked standing out, especially when it was out of his control. He spotted butlers carrying out glasses of colorful liquor to the masses, and in one far side of the ballroom was an incredibly long dining table decorated with a cornucopia of different foods.”

“Ooh, I like that word. ‘Cornucopia’...”

“Will you be quiet for once?”

Siebren pinched his nose again.

“Anyhow, the scholar took a swig of liquid courage and let himself disappear further into the crowd, hoping to make it further to the front to see which of the lovely suitors from neighboring kingdoms the king would ask for a dance. Without even trying, the scholar’s eyes spotted him. He was perched on the second floor, watching the merriment from his throne and commiserating with his council. He was very dashing, indeed.”

Rein heard an “Mmm…” from Siebren, as if he were saying “Aha, there it is…”

“I will pinch you all over if you don’t stay quiet. As I was saying, the king wore a lovely black...you know what a naval jacket looks like, hm?”

“No, I’m completely stupid.”

“Great, now that we’ve got that out of the way, the king wore a lovely black naval jacket, with flowery golden accents on the front and beautiful gold epaulettes and...the, um...you know, the sash thing…”

“Yes, I know the sash thing.”

“Ssh, I don’t hear you. But yes, the king sported these nice things along with perfect white pants and irresistibly sexy leather boots.”

“A very important detail, I’m sure.”

Rein’s hand shot out to grab a pillow and hold it over Siebren’s head, though it didn’t do much on a head facing sideways.

“As the king finished off his beer, he, too, noticed the scholar in the crowd, amongst the merry hundreds under his roof, dressed in brighter, more expensive clothing and radiating immense wealth. Only he mattered. Only he outshined them all. The king began to move before his brain commanded it, gliding over to the corridor leading to the centered staircase that would draw all eyes to him. As people noticed, the room slowly went quiet. They knew it was time for him to choose a suitor. Lovely maidens held their breath in anticipation, the greedy politicians behind them standing stiff with chilly anticipation. Near the foot of the stairs, the crowd parted to let him through.”

“The scholar was facing the king’s direction, but he was still a little further from the front than he wanted to be. Regardless, he finished off his drink and observed the people around him tittering about who he’d choose and how important the choice was. He was so engrossed in the banality of their discussions that he did not notice the crowd continuing to part until he was visible, not until everyone’s gazes turned to him in shock and disbelief. The scholar immediately felt sheepish and anxious, but then he looked ahead. It was the king, smiling at him warmly, his eyes glittering with affection, and his hand outstretched. The scholar blinked, and looked behind him as if he were in the way of the true chosen suitor, but he was met with more befuddled gazes. To quell the anxiety, he accepted that he was the apple of the king’s eye in that moment, and as he took his first step, the gravity of it hit him. He was the one the king wanted. No one else mattered.”

“The scholar kept his eyes on the king, erasing everyone else from his peripheral vision. The king cared about him. The king didn’t want to humiliate him. The king saw him and thought him the most beautiful person in the room. The short steps it took for him to be able to reach the king’s hand felt light, as if he were floating, but once he took it, he felt strong. He felt seen.”

Siebren didn’t notice tears welling up in his eyes until one rolled over the bridge of his nose. 

“The two of them walked to the center of the ballroom, giving each other space to bow. When the scholar laid eyes on the king again, his breath caught in his throat, as if the realization was hitting him again for the first time. The king continued to smile, his heart blossoming with what he warmly recognized and accepted as love, and when he brought the scholar closer with his hand at the small of his waist, the scholar felt it too.”

Siebren raised his head from Rein’s chest, blinking through his tears. His face was not contorted in a grimace of emotion, instead reflecting the heartfelt peace of someone who’d just experienced something profoundly touching. Stepping back off the bed, he took Rein’s hands so they could both stand, and so he could hug Rein close in a slow-dance. They began swaying to nothing, nothing but the music of their fantasy.

“The king and the scholar greeted each other, their faces close enough to kiss, and then the music started playing. The beginnings of a waltz.”

Siebren heard it all; the French horns, the violins, the trumpets, every note weaving around the two of them like a protective veil that repelled everyone’s envious gazes, and though they were not real, he felt smug satisfaction all the same. He wondered if people in public gave them second glances for similar reasons; Siebren himself, though extremely tall, did not turn heads for being an otherwise normal looking old man. Aside Reinhardt, who towered over everyone and shone like the dawn with his beautiful smile and his healthy, abundant hair and his almost impossibly perfect physique, they admittedly looked rather comical. But any insecurity faded from Siebren’s mind when Rein directed his attention to him, knowing every single cell in the larger man’s body yearned for him. What a privilege it was to be certain of such a thing. The selfishness in his heart mingled with pride at how irrefutably attractive Reinhardt was, and how his inherent lack of discretion made it known to everyone around him. But that beauty, that loyalty, that fierce, fierce love, was meant for Siebren and Siebren alone. No one else deserved it. No one else would ever receive it. And those who coveted him would be left alone with their improbable what-if’s. How sad.

They continued to glide effortlessly in his mind, Rein twirling him perfectly on cue, Siebren letting his body arch and his head cock gracefully to the side with each turn. He glanced down and saw his blue frock coat manifest onto his body, the accents weaving into their pattern like golden vines, his cravat blooming around his collarbone like a flower. Raising his head from Rein’s shoulder, now topped with a gleaming epaulette, he watched his royal uniform manifest in a flurry of mist that descended downward like a sheer cloak. Siebren blushed, feeling a small twinge of shame in his heart at his own romanticism, the court of selves in his head booing and jeering at the sentiment and the unabashed belief in magic. To them, such things were only for children. Nonetheless, Siebren demanded order with an eager, indulgent kiss, and when they parted, the ballroom, the outfits, the glitz and glamour of fairy tales, all disappeared. But it was of no consequence to him. As sick and tired as he was, his heart beat with the vigor of a young man. The hypersensitivity of his body only made it sweeter, like the dizziness after riding a roller coaster. He imagined the shocked looks of the crowd, a domino effect of jealous rage rippling through the demographic of guests who only saw him for his status. Such trivial matters made him smirk. If only they knew that he was as much of a prince in Rein’s eyes as Rein was an everyman of the woods in his, with strong, capable hands and eyes that glimmered like quartz and a booming laugh that deserved to echo off the trees that stood the test of time as powerfully and as stubbornly as he had.

“Do that again, hm?”

“Do what?”

Rein rested his forehead against Siebren’s, gazing down at him with a knowing, encouraging look. Siebren smiled back at him, aware of how coquettish he must have appeared. He obliged, leaning his head up and letting Rein close the gap between them this time, keeping his eyes open briefly to place himself in the moment before soaking up the feeling, and breathing Rein in once he captured all of his senses. As if on cue, Siebren felt the earth move under his feet, soon coming to the familiar realization that it was he who left it. Lightness flowed through his body, temporarily remedying aches and congestion and fatigue. As he moved, he began his ascent over Rein, who now had to turn his own head upward to maintain their kiss. Siebren anchored himself on Rein’s shoulders, placing his palms on them gently as the rest of him floated weightlessly above the carpet. Rein adjusted his arms so that one was around his behind, and the other underneath it, while Siebren’s antigravity fluctuated just slightly enough to keep him grounded in his husband’s arms. His weight was there, but it had decreased. Rein noted how it was like holding a dog or a cat.

“ _Als we zouden trouwen, zou je me dan zo vasthouden? (If we were to get married, would you hold me like this?)”_

“ _Natürlich würde ich das tun. Ich würde Sie hoch oben herumdrehen, damit jeder sehen kann, wie glücklich und schön Sie sind. (Of course I would. I'd turn you high up so everyone could see how happy and beautiful you are.)_ ”

Siebren couldn’t help but grin. What joy it was to have someone be proud of your mere existence.

“ _Mein Engel, der auf die Erde fiel, um mich zu finden.” (My angel, who fell to Earth to find me.)_ ”

“ _Mijn ridder, die uit de aarde is gekomen om mij te redden. (My knight, who emerged from the Earth to save me.)_ ” Siebren could not say so without his voice breaking. He increased his weight little by little so he’d descend naturally without Rein needing to let go of him, and wrapped his own arms around him in a tight hug, burying his face in his neck so he couldn’t see him swallowing his tears.

“How does the story end?”

“It's still being written.”

  
  


* * *

_“You’re lucky.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_Reinhardt lightly ruffled Siebren’s hair._

_“Ah. I think it's because of how well you took care of my scalp. Even though no one asked you to.”_

_Rein scoffed. “Well, excuse me.”_

_“Also very strange. Usually when one is comatose their typical medical needs don’t involve maintaining lustrous hair.”_

_“Are you insulting me_ and _thanking me at the same time?”_

_Siebren shrugged, smirking while Rein pulled his hair upward between his fingers._

_“Ah, look. Some of it came away. What a shame.”_

_“Shut up.”_

_The two of them were outside on the watchpoint grounds, laying on the flat roof of the comms tower between the two satellites, overlooking the ocean. The roof itself was, at least to them, both short enough to climb on top of and just tall enough to be out of reach. Rein hauled himself up with his own two hands, while Siebren, lacking the upper body strength, floated upward effortlessly like a leaf._

_“Another,” Rein demanded, crushing his now empty can of beer against his head and throwing it on the ground behind him. Siebren watched before inching himself back until the can was in his line of sight, beckoning it back into the air to reverse it's trajectory._

_“Ow.”_

_“No littering.”_

_“That was a lot harder than I did it.”_

_“Stop being a baby,” Siebren replied with unbothered pompousness, closing his eyes and turning his head towards the sun’s rays. He smiled when he sensed Rein reaching over him into the cooler for another beer._

_“Me too.”_

_“No. You get it.”_

_Siebren opened one eye in Rein’s direction, who returned the delight he felt in a look of challenge mixed with platonic familiarity. He sighed with over-the-top impatience as he sat up to retrieve his own can._

_“All that’s missing is a grill.”_

_“Hm?”_

_“It's a perfect day out here. The one thing that would make this better is a nice, big steak over woodfire.”_

_“Don’t make me hungry. I don’t feel like going back inside.”_

_The two smiled at each other, and took large swigs of beer in comfortable silence, aside from Reinhardt getting into a giggling fit over Siebren’s attempt to muffle a small burp. He set aside his beer and hugged his knees, absentmindedly appreciating the ebb and flow of the ocean waves._

_“_ Vind je het erg als ik wat dichter bij je ga zitten? (Do you mind if I sit a little closer to you?) _”_

_“_ Müssen Sie das auf Niederländisch fragen? (You have to ask that in Dutch?) _” Rein asked amusedly._

_Siebren rolled his eyes and took the initiative. “Yes. It embarrasses me.”_

_“Oh really?”_

_Siebren felt the beginnings of a begrudging smile._

_“Who exactly is it embarrassing for? Me or you? You didn’t seem to have a problem with that big, sloppy kiss on the cheek I gave you that time in the gym.”_

_“Because I know you play like that.”_

_“Ah, Siebren…” he sighed, tutting as he pulled the older man even closer to him._ “Mein Engel, mein seltsamer kleiner Mann, mein außerirdisches Wesen… (My angel, my strange little man, my space alien...)”

_“Oh, come off it.” Siebren shrugged him away, still smiling._

_“I thought we went over this at the very beginning,” Rein said softly. “I am a hugger, and you’re not. I embarrass everyone with my love, and you’re my favorite.”_

_Siebren blushed fiercely, enough that he was thankful for the mask of heat from the sun._

_“You like me that much, hm?”_

_“More than you know.”_

_“Hmph. Tell me, then. What do you like so much about me?”_

_Rein paused, as if making a mental list, his eyes closed with wistful conversation. Siebren blushed deeper._

_“I like your sense of humor. I like that you’re bad at making jokes sometimes. I like watching you bury yourself in your work. I like it when you come to conclusions over it and laugh as if it's something everyone knows. I like your nose and your eyebrows. I like your voice. I like how arrogant you are. I like that despite that, you are actually very sensitive and kind. One of the kindest people I know. I--”_

_Rein was cut off by a warm kiss on his cheek, and the feeling of Siebren’s long nose poking him. The confessional had already rattled his nerves and heart to the point of dizziness, but this was something else entirely. Rein likened it to jumping off a diving board into the deep end of a pool; scary all the way through, but immensely thrilling and satisfying. Even moreso when his friend seemed to linger once he broke away._

_“There. Payback.”_

_The adrenaline rushing through him began to hurt his heart._

_“Oh no. How terrible.”_

_Siebren smiled at him in a way Rein was sure he hadn’t seen before, and he felt the emotion flow upward through his sinuses into his eyes. It was a smile that said “I have known you forever, and I would like to keep knowing you, if you’ll let me.” Rein took another longer gulp of beer to open his throat._

_“You don’t mind if we’re this close?”_

_“What, you want to go back to sunbathing now?”_

_“That’s not what I mean.”_

_Rein knew._

_“If I ever had a problem, I would have made it known.”_

_“Doesn’t mean anything. You could just be--”_

_“What? Putting up with you? I’m the one slobbering over you all the time. I’m surprised you’ve put up with me for as long as you have.”_

_“Me too, in a way. You made it easier for me to be open to such things.”_

_“See? Such a Siebren answer.”_

_That made him laugh._

_“I’m glad I have, though. If that’s what you feel. You've come a long way,_ engel _.”_

_Siebren rested his head against his knees. “From ugly banshee to plain old man.” He underscored himself with his knuckles under his chin, presenting his face with faux pride. Rein pulled him in for a full hug, swallowing deeply again to fight off how right he felt in his arms. His smell, his comfort, his reciprocation._

You will always be beautiful to me _, he thought._

* * *

The two men had fallen asleep with smiles on their faces, the rest of the day wonderfully wasted on worldbuilding for their fairy tale selves; the wedding ceremony, how Siebren would maintain his role as a scholar, the petty arguments the two of them would have over future hunting trips, Siebren spending an inordinate amount of time on his tablet searching up royal attire to brainstorm his wedding outfit and wondering whether or not he’d look more beautiful with or without his ponytail, until eventually being lulled to sleep with Reinhardt’s answer echoing in his head.

_“You have always been beautiful to me.”_

  
  
  
  



End file.
